Happily Ever After
by Zerafall
Summary: Salem's gone. Remnant is safe from the Grimm scourge; they've won. But, as Jaune reminiscences in a bar on some nameless frontier town, things are far from being perfect. That is, until a certain blonde brawler comes crashing into his life. Dragonslayer.
1. Chapter 1

The younger me would have thought that almost completely eradicating the threat of the Grimm would have solved most of the world's problems. The younger me was an optimistic fool.

Food. People are fucking like rabbits now that the chances of their children getting gobbled up by a Beowulf are significantly lower; a consequence of this is that we don't have enough food to feed so many mouths. The farmlands in Remnant are tiny (smaller ones are easier to protect), and yeah, we're expanding them, but Atlas wasn't built in a day.

Politics. The Grimm are - or were - mindless beasts that threatened every kingdom, every settlement, and every person: they were a unifying force; now that they're gone, the kingdoms aren't afraid to step (or stomp, more like it) on each other's toes.

Then there's the whole Huntsman Academy dilemma. The kingdoms - who are (predictably) not very fond of having a relatively independent force of elite warriors on their land, have been trying to disband the four Huntsman Academies, now that there's no need for them. Oscar- or is it more like Ozpin, now? - is trying his hardest to negotiate with the Valean council, but those stubborn fools won't budge. Hunters are a thing of the past, they say, even as they regularly employ their services for the most mundane of duties. Hypocrites.

I sigh, running a calloused hand over shaggy blonde locks. I really should get a haircut.

"Here's your drink, sir," The pretty bartender says, sliding my Strawberry Sunrise over to me. I flash her thankful smile, and she flushes. Heh, Arc charm, works everytime.

It's not all bad though. I take a look at the other patrons of the bar; laughing and smiling as they are. People used to be so tense, now that I think about, always afraid that everyday would be their last. The air of joviality and carelessness feels so...foreign, but not in a bad way.

In a way, this is the world I've always fought for, what we've always fought for. I wonder how the others are doing...

I've personally retired. After Pyrrha, after stabbing a sword through Cinder's gut just to watch the light leave her eyes- a hollow feeling overcomes me -, after Salem; after...everything that's happened. I'd had enough. It's weird, I think, as I drink my Strawberry Sunrise; I always imagined that I would leave the Huntsman profession in a body bag.

Ruby is a celebrity. She's the one who dealt the killing blow to Salem, who toppled the seemingly indomitable empire of the Grimm; there are statues of her, you know? This is a double-edged sword though. She simply doesn't have the time to hang out with the rest of the gang. I miss her horribly.

Weiss is the head of Schnee Dust Company, she's been stomping out the remains of her father's insidious influence, but things are slow going.

Blake is the leader of the New White Fang. She's working on exterminating the remaining extremists. Her road to equality is tumultous, but progress is being made (it helps that Ruby openly supports her).

Yang? Well, she's much like me in her aimlessness, except she hasn't retired. She goes from place to place, searching for the few Grimm that survived the invasion of the Grimm Lands and eliminating them. So they don't find a way to reproduce she says, but the rest of the gang knows that she's just itching for a good fight.

Ren and Nora are married and have a kid - an adorable little girl named Sif, the little scamp reminds me of my sisters, always using her cuteness to her advantage, and there has been many times where I have fallen victim to her puppy eyes. I was best man at their wedding; I'm not afraid to say that I shed more than a few tears of pride. I visit them occasionally, but I don't want to intrude on their lives, even though I know that they wouldn't see it that way.

I've finished the drink before I even know it. I blink, and then request another of the bartender; she nods her assent, and gives me a wink. Huh, maybe I should try my luck with her.

Marriage...Mom's been badgering me about that recently, "You're already twenty six," she says, "Why aren't you giving me any grandchildren yet?" It's not that easy, Mom. Ruby's more of sister to me, Weiss and Blake have Neptune and Sun respectively; and Yang? Her, settling down? Unlikely. The only one I could have ended up with was Pyrrha.

I take a sip of my drink. It's been so long, and while the wounds may have healed; that doesn't mean that there aren't any scars. Thinking of her doesn't make me so morose anymore, only melancholic.

Someone claps me on the back; the force of it almost activates my Aura. I turn to glare at the culprit, only to widen my eyes as they meet a pair of lilac eyes.

"Heya," she grins, giving me a robotic thumbs up, and lashing out with the other hand to steal the Strawberry Sunrise from my nearly-slackened hand, "How's it goin' Vomit Boy?" She then downs my drink in one gulp.

 **AN**

 **Very short chapter, I know, but this chapter is just meant to establish some stuff.**

 **So, I was bored, and listing off story ideas in my head. I've already done White Knight, and I'm doing Arcest (don't judge me), Generic And Uninteresting Harem (okay, now you can judge me) and I'm working on a Lancaster oneshot, so why not write a Dragonslayer story, thought I; then it sorta underwent a metamorphosis from a smutty Dragonslayer oneshot to a multi-chaptered experiment in 1st person writing, realistic relationships, and a character study of what I envision the RWBY cast will be like when they're older.**

 **Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Remember to leave a review. I'll only get better if I get criticized.**


	2. Chapter 2

"So what're you doing here?" I ask her, perhaps a little bluntly, after I get over my shock of encountering someone I know _here_ of all places, and after she forces me to buy her another drink. Damn alcoholic.

She feigns a hurt expression, "Why Jaune!" she exclaims, loud enough that we get a few annoyed glances from the other patrons (I'm sorry, inconsequential patrons, but you will have to be duly ignored) "Is it so out of character for me to say hello to a friend?"

"No it isn't," I shake my head at her grin of victory, "It's more out of character for your rampaging murder boner to get flaccid enough to go to places where there _aren't_ any poor innocent Grimm to slay."

Yang gives me an incredulous look at my dull statement, "Poor innocent Grimm?" she questions, tilting her head. She completely ignores the 'murder boner' part of my statement, go figure.

I sigh, but I'm inwardly excited for her reaction of what I was about to show her. I extract my scroll from my pocket, quickly type something into my preferred search engine - Schnayahoo, for the curious. Jaune Arc always supports his friends - and then hit enter. It takes a few seconds to load, but after it does I tap the first result, and then hand her my scroll.

She takes it with her robotic arm, and then uses her organic one to scroll through the article I showed her, expression shifting into one of supreme amusement after a few seconds of reading, a few snickers escape her as she reads through the article, and by the time she reached the end. She was laughing uproariously.

Cue more annoyed glares. Engage maximum apathy overdrive. Going through the shit we've had, one learned to be a bit callous. My younger self would have been so ashamed.

"Hey," I say in a deadpan voice, miraculously finding the self control to avoid laughing, "the Grimm Rights Protection Movement is serious shit. The Grimm have been an integral part of Remnant's history ever since we can remember; while they may not have been the most courteous of companions, they have been companions nevertheless. But I guess someone like you, one who has hunted humanity's closest companion to near extinction, cannot hope to understand their significance. Utterly disgusting. People like you make me sick."

Yang was wheezing for air at this point, clutching her sides. My Scroll fell from her weakened grip, but I put my years of combat experience into good use and managed to catch it. One would think that being part of the team that helped save humanity itself from destruction would've helped pay the bills, but nope. Sure, shower us with affection and praises but actually give us something useful? Heh, fat chance. Plus, that thing has my porn stash on it.

"Was - was that actually _real?_ " she asks me after the laughter subsided into something calmer, and quieter.

"Yep," I say and nod, popping the 'p' for extra emphasis, "they're real alright. Some people are just _that_ stupid."

"And is there actual support for them?" she asks the question, but it's clear that she doesn't really worry. Stupid people tended to kind of, well, _die_ in a world like Remnant.

"They got their ass slammed within the first few weeks."

"Aw," Yang gives me a faux pout, "but their cause was so noble!"

"I know right?" I give her an equally faux nod in agreement. We manage to hold onto our facades of solemnity for a few more seconds before those very same facades are smashed with a hammer.

It feels...good to be having a conversation with a friend like this. While Yang and I have never been particularly close, we've been through a lot together, and we're far from strangers. Not getting my ass kissed by those who wanted to take advantage of my fame as one of the people who had toppled Salem's reign is great too.

"Anyway," I say after a little while of joking, and absentminded drinking, "back to my question. What _are_ you doing here?"

Yang rolls her eyes, placing her Strawberry Sunrise to the counter, and crossing her arms under her considerable bust. I try to not let my eyes stray, truly one of the greatest challenges ever given to a single young-adult. "I already told you," she purrs, and I wonder if Blake is really the one who resembles a cat the most in team RWBY, "I just came to say hi." She leans ever so slightly closer to me. Not enough to be noticeable to anyone but me. I'd like to say that her games didn't affect me, I'd really like to.

"Even when the person 'you came to say hi' to is in..." I crease my brow, honestly having no idea what the name of this town even _is,_ "uh, whatever this place is even called."

Yang gives me an amused look, "Whoa, vomit-man, maybe you should ease up on the liquor. Don't want you turning into the second coming of Uncle Qrow now, would we?"

I grimace at the thought, glaring at her all the while, "That's real rich, coming from you."

She pouts at me, and lesser men would've fallen for her feminine wiles at the spot, "Whatever do you mean?" she asks in a disgustingly sweet tone of voice.

"Remember that time whem you had that drinking contest with Qrow and Nora?"

Her pout dies an ugly death. I revel in the satisfaction, I did not revel in the elbow to the gut, but some victories require sacrifices. Strategy 101.

"We agreed to never speak of that!" She hisses, face gaining just the _slightest_ of pink.

I leaned forward, intending to push my luck. Verbal victories against Yang had grown rarer and rarer as she grow wiser and older: blunt innuendos turned into cunning verbal traps, something much more subtle and effective.

"Oh, really? But don't you want to relive the memory of how you-!"

Okay...the elbow to the gut this time nearly broke through my Aura. I think it's time to stop, live to fight another and all of that good stuff.

A pained wheeze, and a warning look from one fiery blonde brawler later and we fall back into a comfortable silence. Damn it.

She dodged the subject, again. She's awfully good at that, always has been, and probably always will be. My earlier comparison of Yang to a cat is wrong, she's more of a vixen.

My gaze bores into her eyes with pinpoint intensity, and the veneer of embarrassment quickly fades. As perceptive as she is cunning, that one.

"Why are you really here?" I ask in a deathly serious tone of voice, all the remaining traces of joviality left the air. As whimsical as Yang seemed, she was not one to conduct any serious action without reason, and finding me in a town whose name I can't even remember suggested that she sought me out for a reason. Maybe that reason is important, maybe it is trivial, who knows?

Yang's shoulder sags, and she sighs in exhaustion. For a second I feel guilty. I have a feeling that Yang had been our banter as a way to ease herself into getting into the reason why she had sought me out. But I push that guilty away, I'm not one to beat around the bush, and if the problem is serious, then I would need to address it as soon as possible.

Silence reigns for a few seconds. And just when I am about to ask what was wrong. Yang opens her mouth and speaks.

"It's Ruby," Yang says, a worried crease to her brow, "she's pushing herself way too hard."

"What happened?" I ask.

"She collapsed yesterday," Yang says, clenching her robotic fist around the glass of Strawberry Sunrise, afraid that the glass would shatter, I placed a hand to her shoulder. She stops grasping the glass so hard. She gives me a grateful look, I just nod in turn.

"Collapsed?" I aske, somewhat stunned, Just how exhausted had she been? I mean, Ruby 'The Hero of Humanity' Rose is a really _really_ busy person, sure, and she has a really bad habit of pushing herself - but not to the point of collapse, never to the point of collapse.

"Yeah," Yang grits her teeth, and I know that she blames herself. A virtuous flaw of her's: her mother hen personalty. I've experience it personally, everybody our little group has. She's the most overly protective over her sister, as expected. Whenever Ruby's hurt she always blames herself, it's something that I hate, yet can't help but find charming.

I expected her to continue on to say something, to elaborate, anything really, but the void of silence stretched on for far too long. I let out a breath and finally made manifest the question that I wanted to ask ever since I figured out the reason she sought me out.

"What do you need me to do?" I ask her. As long as it's in my power. I would do damn near anything to keep Ruby Rose safe and healthy: she's pulled me out of the fire so many times that it's not even funny. If I can help her in any way possible, anyway at all, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Talk to her."

Her response catches me off guard for a little bit. That's it? Just...talk to her. i know that she considers me an elderly brother figure and all, but talking to her didn't seem like it would really resolve the issue.

Yang sees my doubt and elaborates further, "If it's you, then she'll definitely listen."

She looks just a little bitter as says that. I'm not even touching that an hill with a ten foot stick, not even if you pay me.

I let the subject drop (probably the wisest thing I've done in a long while) and utter the only response that I can possibly give, "Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh no." I say as soon as I leave the bar. "Oh hell no. I am _not_ riding on that." I cross my arms and look to the side. Nodding to myself. Resolute in the fact that no matter how much I just drank that there would be no way that I be drunk enough to want to get atop that monstrosity.

And what a monstrosity it is.

Over the years Yang had turned Bumblebee from a lean sports bike into a growling monstrosity of steel and gasoline. Painted the same shade of neon yellow mixed with black that had given it its name, the large thrusters present on the back of the so called 'bike' combined with the large - almost comically so - tires made the bike a weapon in and of itself. I can testify. I saw her run over a Beowulf with it once.

"Oh come on," she walks over, takes her key from between her cleavage - which I swear I wasn't looking at - and twisted the ignition. The thing _roared,_ light flickers of flame spouting from the thrusters. She caresses the thing, giving me the illusion that the abomination of a bike was purring under its master's ministrations. She probably did it on purpose, just to freak me out, "Don't be such a baby. Bumblebee's completely safe."

I give her such an incredulous look that she looks away and coughs, laughing nervously.

"Well. _Mostly_ safe."

"Wow. That is so reassuring. I am completely and utterly okay with riding on that thing now. Thank you, Yang." I say sarcastically.

Yang heaves herself atop the thing. Turning to give me a grin, "If you don't get on. I'ma run ya over."

I turn to her with wide eyes, "You wouldn't dare." Despite my words, I still back away though. Yang simply grins at me. Oh what are you saying, me? She totally would. This is Yang you're talking about here, Jaune. And she would do it as a joke.

So, deciding that getting on it is better than getting run over it, I hesitantly clamber atop on Bumblebee, behind Yang. She turns to look at me smugly. Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.

"I'm so glad that you saw reason, Jaune." How could a person that sounds so sincere be so scary at the same time?

"Wasn't exactly a very hard choice to make. Given the options." She giggles at my answer. She really does have a beautiful laugh.

"Hold on tight."

My eyes dig into the back of her brown trench coat. "What exactly do you mean by that?" I say suspiciously.

The engines roar so loud that it hurts my ears, and I get my answer.

The force of starting up Bumblebee almost throws me off the bike, would have, if I had not frantically grabbed onto the closest object in order to steady myself: Yang.

I hear the vague noise of laughter over the roaring of the monstrous bike, and feel Yang's shoulders shaking as I hold onto her for dear life. My face warms in embarrassment.

The bike - thank the gods - slows down after its explosive start, still fast, but not ludicrously so. We drive past the entrance-way of the town, past startled watchmen, and past through the sign denoting the town's name - unfortunately we are going too fast for me to read it. A shame.

"You are the worst." I inform Yang.

She just glances back at me - I don't bother telling her to keep her eyes on the road. She's a lost cause - and has the audacity to wink, smirking smugly all the while.

Eventually the road we are taking splits off into two paths. Yang heads right, to Vale City.

"You're getting awfully cozy back there aren't you, Lady Killer?"

I raise a brow, confused at what she means before my eyes widen in realization. Over the course of the ride, my wandering mind has put my body on autopilot and it has taken the most comfortable position it can. I am leaning on Yang, my arms firmly wrapped around her midriff. I recoil, momentarily surprised, and lean back further, loosening my grasp around her; admonishing myself for being so careless. Showing such a lack of awareness before the Grimm were exterminated could have gotten me killed.

"Sorry about that," I apologize. And if my both of my arms around her - and wow, that was a thought that could be taken out of context if there ever was one - I would have been rubbing the back of my head sheepishly.

"It's fine," she says, and I can practically _hear_ the smirk she is no doubt wearing, "I know that men can hardly keep their hands off of me."

I roll my eyes, at that. "Hardy har har."

It's a long ride to Vale, and Yang keeps me on my toes by periodically adding random bursts of speeds through the journey. We chat about little, inconsequential things, until eventually a comfortable silence falls upon us. I close my eyes, just planning to relax until we reach Vale and help Ruby with whatever problem she's having.

Yang shatters that silence, as she is wont to, "So. You dating anyone?"

The question comes from absolutely nowhere, so I have no time to think on it. I give her the honest and slightly emasculating answer.

"Not really. No."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" I ask her curiously.

"'Cause I am," she shrugs, "you're a nice catch. Relatively well off, famous, good-looking." She rattles off a list of my desirable qualities. "How has a girl never asked you out before?"

"Oh they have," I reply, "It's just that they wanna get with me because I'm 'Jaune Arc, famous Huntsman', not because I'm 'Jaune Arc, person'. Get me? I don't really have high standards for women, but gold diggers are a bit of a turn off for me. I want a something a little more genuine than that."

She giggles.

"What?" I ask her, a little defensive.

"Nothing," she waves me off, "It's just...I never took you for such a romantic. You believe in true love, too?"

"Well," the question gives me pause, "depends on what you mean by true love. Do you mean, like the soulmate stuff?"

"Yeah." I see her nod, a curious tilt of something in her voice. Something flips in my stomach, it's like I'm back to being a teenager again. It's neither welcome nor unwelcome.

"Not really."

"Hm?"

"Really? How naive do you think I am?" I question her with a little bit of indignation in my tone. I may have believed in stuff like that when I was younger, sure, but I grew out of it as I matured.

"Yeah. I don't really buy all of that true love stuff; people aren't just in love with another person. That's more lust than love. Love takes time to build up, I think. You need to actually understand, be friends with a person to truly understand them, to love them." Before I know it I go off of a tangent on love of all things to Yang of all people.

"That was pretty deep." She says after a short pause, a little surprise in her voice.

"Damn straight. I'm Jaune Arc, Huntsman by trade, Lady Killer by nature, and philosopher by circumstance."

"That your resume?" She laughs, I do too. No matter how much I complain about Yang's wild behavior, she's a truly fun person to be around.

"What brought on all of this stuff about love anyway? You finally get a boyfriend?" Even I don't what I'm feeling at the thought of it. I know I should be happy for her if she does, but still, something in me tugs in displeasure at the idea, platonic protectiveness, or something more?

"No." No joke, no inflection.

"Why not?" I ask, but I already know the answer. As much as Yang ragged on me about being a 'romantic' earlier, she is much the same.

"Same problem as you," she sighs in displeasure, "except with the addition of guys going after my killer bod too." What a brilliant display of humility.

"Oh? You a fellow romantic?" I say jokingly.

She chuckles. "Maybe."

* * *

I'd like to say that the sight of Vale gives me a sense of accomplishment and accomplishment, of what humanity could accomplish given enough time and resources, of what my forefathers had died protecting; a feeling of protectiveness curling around in my chest like a Mama Ursa ready to protect her little death machines. It would be the the Huntsman thing to feel. It would be what those pedestrians waving at us from down the street would think I am feeling, it would be what the kids looking at us in awe and out-reached hands would think I am feeling.

In reality, the only thing that Vale gives me is a headache.

If I had to describe Vale in one word, it would definitely be 'bustling'. Businessmen rushed to their commutes in their starched suits and and briefcases, the workers were going crazy, tearing down walls and defenses now that there are no chances of Grimm breaches. It's a flurry of activity that my poor village-boy mind cannot comprehend.

At-least the monstrosity that Yang is riding is causing the citizens of Vale to give us a very wide berth; at least it's good for something.

"How's it like to be back?" Yang asks me, as we nearly run over a slow pedestrian. I give the man a pitying look, and then turn to answer Yang's question.

"It sucks ass."

Yang barks a laugh, "Wow. Blunt, much?"

I shrug, even though she can't see the motion. "What do you want me to say? I mean, it's really great and all that people are less terrified of going out of their homes. But it's so _crowded_. It's honestly too much for me."

"Hm, I never knew that you hated crowds?"

"Well," I consider for a moment, "Vale when we were attending Beacon was pretty tense, what with Roman, the White Fang, and all of that other stuff, Vale felt like it was one second from pushing the 'evacuate all of the civilians' button. It only got worse after the Fall. People were too scared to get out of their homes. It just never came up, I guess." I shrug.

"So that's why you never visit the major cities," Yang observes, to which I nod.

"Yeah. I just can't get over how crowded they can get. Especially Mistral." Yang groans as I mention the kingdom.

"Don't even _remind_ me about Mistral. I went there a few months ago to meet a contact, and for some reason there was a festival going on. It was like a sea of bodies, like, holy crap. It was like a goddamn tidal wave of people."

I pat her back in sympathy, "I barely survived Mistral on normal day. I have no idea how you could handle it being a festival day."

"Mostly luck. And a lot and I mean a _lot_ of revving Bumblebee 2.0 up." And there went all of my sympathies.

"Anyway," I say. "Where does Ruby live, anyway?"

"It's just around that corner over there." It takes only a scant few seconds to pass said corner. Jeez, this bike is _fast._ That corner was like, a few hundred meters away. "Yeah. It's that building over there." She floors the breaks, and I have to grab onto to ensure I don't get tossed off of the bike by the sudden loss of momentum. She's doing it on purpose. I'm sure of it. I look at where she's pointing: a nondescript apartment building.

I don't even know why I'm surprised at this point. 'Humble' and Ruby are pretty much synonymous at this point. Kinda makes you feel like trash. Goddammit Ruby, givin' me an inferiority complex even when you're not here.

Yang parks in front of the building. She gets off the bike. I am quick to follow her lead. Goodbye, Bumblebee. I won't miss you at all.

We enter the building, and head to the elevator. Yang presses the button that takes us up to the second floor. We stand in silence for a few seconds.

"Kinda weird how she lives in an apartment of all things."

Yang chuckles, just shaking her head. "Tell me about it."

"Isn't that kind of a bad idea? What with her adoring fans and all?"

"You might think that this building's a regular apartment building; it isn't. This building doesn't have anybody living in it except for Ruby."

I look at her, wide-eyed, "You're shitting me."

She shakes her head, expression turning serious.

"Why didn't she just buy a house?"

"It's easier to hide in an apartment building than an actual house that you own."

I frown, "That makes sense. But still...living in this apartment building...all alone. That sounds so damn lonely." Goddamit. Why didn't I check on her sooner?

Yang looks pained, "It's not that bad. Me and the team still visit her."

"How regularly?"

Yang winces, evidently they hadn't been visiting Ruby as regularly as she wanted. A flash of fury goes through me - I squash it down. A condemnation by _me_ out of all people would be beyond hypocritical. I thought I moved past the war, I congratulated myself because of moving past those hellish memories, drowning myself in bottles of memories and pleasurable past times. I was escaping. Escaping my past. My pain. My friends. Sure I called. Sure I visited once in a blue moon. But it wasn't enough.

"Jaune?" Yang's arm is on my shoulder. Warm and comforting. I look into her eyes. Lilac, beautiful and worried for me. No trace of the pain that used to lurk in there after the Fall, after Raven, after Salem. How can she be so strong? How can I be so weak?

"I'm sorry," I say, voice choked, "I'm sorry for not being there for Ruby."

Yang's face turns shocked, "What?" The elevator dings as we reach the second floor. We both ignore it.

Words flow out of me, "I've- I've not been a good friend. I've been so obsessed over myself and my problems that I couldn't check on everybody else's. I've been dwelling over everything while everybody else moved on. I'm sorry." Shame colors my voice. I look down.

Yang laughs. I look to her in betrayal.

"Wha-!" She cuts me off with a shake of her head. A sort of amused but firm look on her face - the kind of face she wears when chastising Ruby. It's a look that makes me feel like a child all over again.

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

"No I-!" I begin to protest

"No you _don't_!" Flecks of crimson appear in those lilac eyes. Her hand on my shoulder feels like iron. I shut my mouth. "I see that all of those years haven't done anything about your damn hero-complex. Guess that's why you and Ruby were always so buddy-buddy."

"You always believe that you can do better. That you're always the one at fault. You're wrong." She glares. I can't look away from those eyes.

"But-!"

"No 'buts'!" She hisses, "You're not the only who can't move past everything. Blake and Weiss throw themselves at their work, deluding themselves into thinking that putting almost all of their time to making the world a better place won't hurt everyone closer to home."

Yang looks sad, tired. I realize the pain in those eyes hadn't disappeared. They were just hidden better. They were dulled, muted even - but that didn't mean that they weren't there. She had lost a piece of herself during the war, I realize. We all did.

"Yang..."

"Ruby never had a choice. She had to be someone - no, _something_ perfect for Remnant. The Grimm Reaper. The hero. For everyone, but not for herself and those who love her."

Yang looks pained. I hate it. I thought we were past all of this. That we had _healed_ , but here we are. Just as hurt.

"And then there's me. Instead of staying and supporting my sister like I should have. I- I _ran_." She spits out the words like they're ashes on her tongue. There was sadness there and a self-loathing so different from her signature assurance that it throws me for a loop. This isn't the Yang that I know and respect. This is the Yang behind the facade. The Yang that she shows to no one but herself. I wonder if I even know her at all. "If you're going to blame yourself. Then blame us as well. You're not the only one who ran away."

She chuckles ruefully, "I'm exactly like Raven."

 **{Play: Cowboy Bepop OST 1 - Waltz for Zizi}**

I'm silent for a moment. Yang mistakes my silence as one of stupefaction, and presses the button to the button that will take us to the second floor once more, as during the time that we were talking the elevator had gone back down to the ground floor. For an awkward moment the only sound that can be heard in that uncomfortably small and horribly bright elevator was an annoyingly catchy tune.

The elevator doors open. Yang moves to step out. And I think about letting her. I think about everything I know and believe about Yang Xiao Long. Every smile and every word of encouragement she has ever given me out. Every act of kindness. And you can bet your ass that I grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her right then and there. She rounds on me, a question on the tip of her tongue. I shake my head and interrupt her.

"You're wrong." Earlier I asked myself if I knew who Yang really is. The answer is I don't. Not completely. I know that she's a fun loving person that cares deeply about her friends. But is that really something that everyone doesn't already know? I don't know her completely, and that's fine. Because who can claim to know a person's every desire, motive and emotion? The best we can do is to strive to understand as much as we can. And I understand Yang enough to know that what she's saying is completely and utterly wrong.

She opens her mouth, maybe to protest, maybe to agree. I'll never know, because I raise up a hand and gave her a stern look. "You said that I had a hero-complex, and maybe- no you're _definitely_ right. I'd save everyone. I'd take on everyone's burdens by myself if I could, I'm stupid like that."

"I-" I breathe. "I hated looking back at the war. And when I looked back at you guys - at Ren and Nora, at you, Ruby, Blake, Weiss I-"

"I remembered. And I drifted away, never noticing that you guys were doing the same. You made me understand that, you're right in the fact that I'm not the only one at fault. I see that now - but you're wrong on one thing."

Ruby had her silver eyes. Weiss had her dust. Blake and Ren had their speed and stealth. Yang and Nora had their raw power. Me? I had the men and women of Remnant that were tired of the way things were. My weapon was my resolve taken into the spoken word. My weapon was self-expression painted into the most favorable light possible.

But I don't use an ounce of nuanced word, or charisma, or persuasive language that I had used on them as I talk to Yang. She doesn't need to be coerced, she needs to _see_. "Raven wouldn't care about what she was becoming, or who she was hurting, as long as her damned tribe survived to see another day."

My hand squeezes her shoulder. I look into her turbulent eyes, and I still can't see what she is thinking. That is fine.

"To me: Yang Xiao Long and Raven Branwen are worlds apart."

Of that, I have the utmost faith.

 **AN**

 **Heya, guys. Still not dead. As you can see by this chapter. Sorry for the delay, I've really got no excuse. Was just being my lazy, unproductive self.** The Senior **is taking a while as I'm unsure about the direction I want that story to go (I'm thinking half-serious half-satire?) and I'm too lazy to get out of my comfort zone and start completing Volume 5.** Second Flash **'s chapter is almost done, just needs some refinement. I've tentatively begun Desperate Measure's next chapter.**

 **I'm unsure about the confrontation at the end there between Jaune and Yang, and while I feel that both of them were relatively in character, I'm unsure if the way they've aired out their grievances were conveyed well. So, I'd appreciate any comments about that.**

 **I do hope you guys enjoyed my choice of OST. Was partly inspired by Kur0Kishi's (An amazing fanfic author, go check them out) tendency to do so.**

 **Anyway, Leave a review. See ya.**


	4. Chapter 4

Awkward.

That's the most fitting word that I can use to describe the atmosphere between Yang and I. There's an undercurrent of tension there, the type that lingers long after the battle is concluded, when both Grimm ichor and human blood stains the earth, the type that almost seems to ask, "Did you really survive that?" You're never sure; some part of you is still fighting that fight.

Heh. It's kind of pathetic isn't it? That the closest thing I can equate this - this _mortifying_ feeling to is after-battle jitters. I guess it kind of makes sense, in a roundabout sort of way; that whole ordeal certainly felt like a battle. Damn the books and movies! They never showed the aftermath of these stereotypical intense emotional confrontations!

We walk the hallway of Ruby's apartment building - and my mind still boggles at the scope of what she has, all for herself, by herself -. The floor is polished, free of any litter, and the walls are pristine. All in all, much cleaner than any other apartment building I've ever been to, that's for sure. I guess that's only natural, considering...

I shake those dark thoughts away. I'll confront her - Ruby, I mean. But letting myself become too emotional here won't solve anything. What I now dub as The Elevator Confrontation has proven that.

I glance at Yang from the corner of my eye, only to catch her doing the same. Lilac meets cobalt and the moment seem to drag on for an eternity. I gulp, the sound audible to my own ears, tearing my eyes away; looking resolutely forward. I feel her eyes lingering on me, before she looks away scantly a second later. A heat surges from my spine and gets caught up in my throat. I want to say something, maybe at least crack a joke; but I can't muster up the courage to do so.

Gods, what is _wrong_ with me. I'm a grown ass man, not some sort of teenager. More than that, I'm Jaune Arc. I've given speeches to _armies_ ; spat in the face of _Salem_ herself. I'm a badass Huntsman. This shit shouldn't faze me!

Yet it does.

Because for a second there - after all of the years of pent-up emotion had released themselves in a frankly sudden speech to surpass all frankly sudden speeches, after Yang had confided one of her greatest fears to me - I had lost control of myself. Jaune Arc, badass Huntsman didn't exist in that moment. Hell, Jaune Arc: son, brother, leader, and hero didn't exist in that moment. Only Jaune Arc did.

I couldn't help it though: hearing Yang disparage herself like that by comparing herself to _Raven_ of all people had lit a fire inside of me, an inner will and passion that I only let loose for things that I feel strongly about. Raven is a thief, she's a killer, and she's an all around despicable human being; but what I hate most about her...

Is the fact that she had the gall to attempt to _graciously_ accept Yang into her little tribe when she had abandoned the girl at birth? Maybe it's the fact that I've always had a great relationship with my family, but I hate people who turn their backs on family. Thankfully Yang had the sense to decline (not that there was any doubt).

And then there's Yang herself: a person who would go through hell and back for her family and friends, no matter the cost to herself. She's so far from being anything like Raven that it's funny. There are some behavioral similarities, sure; but _fundamentally_ -!

Damn it. I'm getting caught up in this again. I've gotta calm down. My nerves are shot; my slightly shaking hands are proof enough of that. That awkward, spineless fool back in my Beacon days still lives on, much to my eternal horror. It was supposed to be my angst-fest too, my way of finally releasing all of my baggage, but _noo_ , Yang just _had_ to pull the mommy issues card; and I just _had_ to go full on overdramatic anime character!

But even with all of my bitching...

I really can't bring myself to regret my words, as mortifying as they were. Perhaps that's the part that vexes me the most. Goddamit, Yang. The headaches you cause me...

Yang stops in front of a door, labeled '264' - Ruby's place, I assume. She fishes out a key from the pouch at her side. I wait for her to unlock the door, but she just stands there for a few seconds. I shift my weight to my other foot, about to say something.

Yang looks back at me, lilac eyes meeting mine hesitantly. My words get caught up in my throat, threatening to choke me; my thoughts grind to a halt. I've got tunnel vision. I can't see anything past the shine of her hair; the twinkle in her eyes. There's a shy smile on her face; not cheerful, or cheesing, just...shy. It's a beautiful smile. She nods to me. I nod back, still incapable of saying a word.

She then turns around, unlocks the door, twists the knob, and quickly goes inside.

I place a hand to my chest, and breathe. Shaking my head, I follow after her. That smile is _dangerous_.

Her living room is Spartan: coffee table, a couch, TV. The walls are painted in a light shade of red - almost bordering pink. A door is present in the east, one to the west, and one is also present in the north. Yang heads to the latter, which I assume is Ruby's bedroom.

Yang's hand rests on the doorknob once more, and she seems to hesitate before twisting it and stepping inside the room. I follow her, a second later.

A blast of cold hair hits me immediately; Ruby had apparently had her air conditioner on full blast. It's a refreshing breeze that I welcome, but the sudden change of temperature still catches me off guard.

"Ruby!" Is the first thing out of Yang's mouth. Surprisingly, she does not sound happy.

I turn my eyes around to examine the room. It looks like a regular apartment; well, other than the giant sniper scythe currently lying on an errant table in the corner of the room. Heh, classic Ruby. The second thing that really stands out to me is the dozens of empty boxes with illustrations of strawberries scattered throughout the room.

The third thing is Ruby herself.

She's grown; no longer has that awkward little girl that exploded on her first day at Beacon, the numerous challenges and tragedies that she has faced turned her into a fine woman.

And with her mental and emotional maturity, came a physical maturity as well. She's taller, more curvaceous (Note to self: Never let that observation slip in front of Yang), and her face is less rounded, sharper.

Yes, indeed. Ruby has grown up in many ways. Warmth rests in my chest, bumping away shame and residual embarrassment.

"I told you," Yang throws her hands up in the air, voice tinged with annoyance; lilac freckled with crimson. "Stop eating so many strawberries!"

But clearly some things will never be outgrown. The thought brings a smile to my face.

"But Yanggggggg," Ruby whines, initiating the vaunted puppy eyes. Yang remains stern, however, lilac eyes staring Ruby down. Ruby wilts, pouts and looks away.

A look of triumph flashes through Yang's eyes. She shakes her head exasperatedly, a fond smile playing on her lips.

I chuckle at the scene, catching their attention. At their quizzical expressions, I just laugh harder. It's so nostalgic! We'll confront Ruby later, we'll face our problems later; but for now? It's good to see her again.

"This reminds me of old times," I explain for their benefit. "Lots of things have changed, but you guys will always be sisters, huh?"

At that, they both puff up in pride, sharing a smile and a glance between them. Sisters, once more reunited after who knows how long. I remind myself to visit my own family sometime soon.

"Of course!" Yang exclaims. "Me and Ruby-"

"Ruby and I," Ruby prompts in between, earning a glare and a mutter about Weiss being a bad influence, much to her glee. Yang pauses for a moment, seeing if Ruby has more things to say.

"Yeah, Ruby and _I_ ," she says in an exaggerated manner and sending Ruby a faux-glare, "are as thick as thieves, always have been, always will be!"

"Aw _yisss,"_ Ruby evidently agrees, and holds out a hand for a high five, which Yang takes. With a 'thwack'. As Ruby shakes her hand with an adorable little 'ow', Yang quickly snatches up all of the leftover boxes of strawberries and moves to throw them in the bin.

"This stuff?" Yang looks at at one of the boxes in her hand, noting the barely eligible cursive at the front (I mean, come on. I never got the fact that the fanciest products oft had the most difficult-to-read labels).

"Weiss." Yang palms her face, while throwing the empty boxes in the bin. "That girl spoils you way too much!" Ruby squawks in protest at that, waving her arms around in a gesture that's extremely likely to knock something over. Over at the side and watching the interaction, I just shake my head at how rowdy they're being. Is this how Ren feels every day, with Nora and his daughter around? No. That poor guy no doubt has it harder; Sif has inherited all of Nora's seemingly inexhaustible energy and more.

"No!" Ruby denies, crossing her arms - I take everything back about her mentally maturing -, the motion has an, uh, _interesting_ effect on her _assets_. Not as big as Yang, sure, but not as flat as Weiss. "She spoils me just as much as she should!"

Yang rolls her eyes. "Geez, sure you aren't dating the ice queen?" Ruby sputters at that, quickly turning an interesting shade of red. I watch on in interest, this show is proving to be quite entertaining.

"She's dating Neptune!"

"That just makes it even better!" Yang _swoons_ , an absolutely merciless expression on her face. "A forbidden love, made even more taboo by regretful circumstances. Passions reaching an absolute boiling point, until eventually, controls escapes them, the two young maidens _tearing_ away any semblance of self control in their all consuming lust-!"

Yang is prevented from continuing by a pillow making contact with her face.

* * *

 **AN**

 **Eh. Not very happy with this to be honest, I wanted to add some more teasing on the Yang-Ruby interaction, but had trouble fitting it in the way I wanted to. All in all, however, I feel like it fulfilled its purpose, I really just wanted to get into Jaune's head space.**

 **Next chapter will (hopefully) have more content.**

 **As always, leave a review!**


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